Night Off
by Secret Wendigo
Summary: Dean sees that Sam needs a night off...but he'll need some convincing. WINCEST! Boys kissing, smoking drugs, and generally lusting after each other. If you don't like it, don't read this!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Trying to save my soul tonight; it's nobody's fault but mine (Night Off)**

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Read more by the _Secret Wendigo_ on my LJ - username: secretwendigo 

Thanks to The Huntress for being the beta for this story (((((HUGS))))).

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Another dusty midwestern town, another dollar. 

Oh wait, they don't get paid.

_ What a fuckin' shame_, Dean thought as he handed some pimply-faced high school kid twenty-five bucks for a bag of _Great Night Off_. This seventeen-year-old kid sells dope and probably has more cash in his pocket on any given day than he does, well, except for the occasional night when Dean works some redneck small town drunk out of his crappy paycheck.

But Dean's mission tonight isn't a hunt. It's Sam. Sam's the mission and Dean never fails when confronted with a challenge. He needs to get his ultra uptight brother to take a night off with him and enjoy life; stop and smell the roses so to speak, or weed, whatever. His brother has been so repressed lately, he was probably about two seconds from cracking. All work and no play makes Sam a homicidal maniac. Yup, definitely time for an intervention.

Dean heads to the grocery store on the way back to the motel to get a six-pack of beer (no reason to wait until he gets to the bar to start) and some aluminum foil. Necessity, after all, is the mother of invention.

Dean pulled up to the motel and mentally prepared himself for the task ahead. Getting Sam to lighten up this year was like talking a fifteen-year-old girl out of her virginity; not that Dean would know what _that _was like…lately.

As expected, Dean found Sam hunched over his laptop, in the dark, his face illuminated by the screen. He didn't even look up when Dean walked in and turned on the lamp.

Dean screwed the top off two bottles of imported beer and placed one on the table in front of Sam. "Hey, put the internet porn away and let's go meet some real chicks."

"It's not internet porn, Dean, it's research. You know, the stuff you never do anymore."

Dean took a long pull off of his bottle and set it down. This was serious business; he **so** didn't need a repressed **and** homicidal brother. He ignored his brother's protests and went around to massage his shoulders. Digging his thumbs into Sam's stiff back, he bent over and whispered into Sam's ear. "C'mon, Sammy, we're going out for a few beers, listen to some music, shoot some pool, hit on some girls..."

Sam stopped typing and softened a bit under Dean's practiced touch.

"You mean _you're _going to hustle pool and feel up the waitresses while I watch."

Dean smirked and lowered his voice. "I'm okay with it if you want to watch." He really was a cocky bastard.

Sam shrugged Dean's hands off of his shoulders and laughed. "Get your hands off me, you freak."

Dean was pleased when Sam closed his laptop and picked up his beer. "Fine, I'll go, but I swear to God, Dean, you so much as **think** about trying to hustle pool, I'm outta there. I am **not** getting into another bar fight because **you** can't take a night off."

"Deal. So, what are you going to wear?" No way Sam was getting any in **that **outfit.

"Um…what I have on."

"Yeah, getting laid while wearing that outfit will be the least of your worries. You look like some college yuppie."

Sam glared at him.

"So…what? Okay…fine..." Dean dug through his pile of clean clothes and pulled out a thin, black, short sleeve tee-shirt and held it up. "Wear this."

"Dean, your shirts are a size too small for me."

"Exactly, _Master-of-the-obvious_. Now put it on."

Sam pulled off his sweatshirt, revealing his bare chest and stretched the black tee-shirt over his head and down his waist. As expected, it clung tightly.

Dean took in Sam's look. His hair was tousled from changing and he had that _just-been-fucked_ look that he always wore well. The tee-shirt was stretched so tight across him that Dean could see the outline of his cut abs. The sleeves were too short, showing off his arms, built from fighting and hunting. The shirt left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

"Well?" Sam began to feel a bit uncomfortable under his brother's scrutiny and reached for his sweatshirt.

"So help me God, if you put that baggy sweatshirt on, I'm going to kick your ass." Dean took a breath. "You look good enough to fuck."

_ Oh God, did I just say that? _

"Thanks." Sam rolled his eyes and added sarcastically, "If it wasn't for my older brother dressing me, I'd never get laid." He punched Dean in the arm and headed for the bathroom. "I need to brush my teeth. I'll be ready in a few."

Dean rubbed the sore spot on his arm and watched his brother walk away from him. He sat down on the edge of his bed and downed the rest of his beer. When the bathroom door closed, he palmed the crotch of his jeans. His dick was hard and his brother was the cause.

**What. The. Fuck.**

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Dean had the faint notion that visions of hellfire, or maybe the lack of pussy in the last few weeks, had started it all. He vowed to never let it get this bad again, and to cure it all, he'd bang some chick in the bar bathroom. Tonight. When your younger brother's hot body was getting you hard, it was time for a trip to the Y. 

They pulled into the parking lot of the bar and Dean noticed that for a small town, this place was packed full of customers. A row of Harleys were lined up against the porch of the bar and the cars in the parking lot reflected a variety of classes.

Dean parked at the very back of the lot (no way his baby was getting a door ding from one of these drunk bitches) and Sam moved to get out. "Whoa, dude. We've got something else to take care of before we go in." Dean smiled and produced a rolled up Ziploc bag which he shook in front of Sam's face revealing green buds.

"You've_got_ to be kidding me? You want to get high?"

"C'mon, it's not like we've got to worry about our job's "drug free" policy."

"Man, Dean, we are so fucked up it's not even funny."

"Not yet, but give me a minute."

Dean produced the roll of aluminum foil he purchased earlier from under his seat and tore a piece off. He began to fashion his make-shift bowl by crafting a pipe using the foil and the Kubotan off of his keychain.

"Holy shit. You can make a bowl out of common household items, but you couldn't pass twelfth grade English without screwing the teacher? Priceless."

Dean could have taken offense to that comment, but he knew Sammy meant it light heartedly. He bent the end of his aluminum foil pipe and packed the weed tightly in.

"Ladies first," Dean said as he handed his brother the lighter and pipe. Dean knew this would ensure Sam took it easy and he could use Sam's foggy state of mind to hustle just _a little _ pool.

Sam held the lighter up and lit the pipe. He inhaled sharply, holding in the smoke. Dean started laughing, taking in the vision of his straight laced, college student brother firing it up. Sam grinned and followed with a snort, coughing the smoke out of his burning lungs.

Twenty minutes later Dean had a pleasant high and, judging from his brother's constant grin and glazed eyes, so did Sam. They got out of the car and headed across the lot towards the front door. Half way there, Sam grabbed Dean's wrist and turned him around.

"I really love you, man." Sam pulled Dean against him tightly in a hug, crouching over to shove his face into Dean's neck.

Dean smiled at his brothers marijuana induced affection and hugged him back. "I know you do."

"Smug bastard." Sam said it with a straight face, but the smile he was trying to hide didn't stay buried for long. He clapped Dean on his back and turned to continue towards the bar.

Dean paused briefly before following him. Watching his brother's ass he felt his cock twitch and the image of his high, vulnerable brother laid out naked in front of him on a bed flashed through his mind.

_ Son of a bitch. Drugs are bad…m'kay._

_TBC... _


	2. Chapter 2

Check out my LJ, username: secretwendigo

Special thanks to The Huntress for being the beta for this story (((((HUGS))))).

Secret Wendigo

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After they entered the bar, they both ordered a beer and essentially went their separate ways. Dean headed towards the pool tables, and Sam went towards the back of the bar. Usually the bars they frequented were small enough that they could shout back and forth from one side to the other if they wanted to. But this bar was crowded, and a bit bigger, and Sam disappeared into the crowd of people. 

Dean made modest bets at the pool tables, winning a few and then losing a game or so, just so the good ol' boys didn't suspect. He made a point of coming onto his waitress incessantly and his beer supply never ran out. She was a cute little thing. Short and petite and he was sure by the time they were at last call, he'd have her shoved against the bathroom wall with his hand up her little black skirt fingering her around her panties. She'd made it clear she was game when she rubbed against him deliberately while he was trying to sink a winning shot. He'd missed and lost fifty bucks and she giggled, gave him a wink and shook her ass provocatively as she walked away.

Dean threw his cue onto the green felt and looked around for Sam. He hadn't seen him for a couple of hours, and he wondered what his brother was up to. He grabbed his beer and began wading through the crowds of people, some shoved together in groups talking loudly over the music, some dancing. He stopped when he finally caught sight of Sam.

Sam was leaning against the wall with his beer tilted back, chugging the last of it. He was pressed against someone behind him, which was evident by the hand that was rubbing under the edge of the tight black t-shirt barely dipping down the front of Sam's pants beneath his brown leather belt.

_ Well, that sly dog. Doesn't waste any time... _

Dean grinned that his brother might actually be liberated from _homicidal maniac_ status and be a normal guy looking to get laid. Sam had a smile plastered on his lips when he turned to kiss the mystery guest behind him. Mid-swallow, Dean almost dropped his bottle when he choked beer into his lungs. It was a **guy**.

It was like a car wreck and he couldn't look away. I mean, he always joked about Sam being the girl in this relationship, but he had no idea his feminism extended to picking up men in a bar and **kissing **them. And did that asshole have his hands on his brother's ass?

Dean had quite enough of this scene. No way was his letting his brother get it on in public with some guy he just met in a bar. He stormed over and pulled on Sam's shoulder. He could see that they were kissing deeply, the guy was sucking on Sam's bottom lip and Sam was shocked when it was abruptly ended.

"Look man, I don't want any..." Recognition dawned on Sam as he turned. "Dean, hey." Sam blushed.

The mystery man sensed the conflict ahead and backed away from Dean, holding his hands up in the air in surrender. "I didn't know he was with somebody. I **swear**. He said he was here by himself."

Dean ignored him and turned to Sam. "What the **FUCK** are you doing?"

" 'm makin' out Dean. You know, trying to get laid like you keep tellin' me to do."

"I meant with a chick, you moron. Since when do you make out with guys?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck and stared in disbelief.

"When your high it jus' feels good to kiss. Doesn't matter who it is…not with your eyes closed."

"Okay, that's it, we're outta here." Dean grabbed Sam by the elbow, led him to the bar to pay both their tabs and shoved Sam out the front door to the Impala.

Dean kept silent for most of the short drive back to the motel.

Sam had packed more weed into the aluminum bowl and was clumsily lighting it. He held it out to Dean, who refused.

Dean had quite enough fun for one night already, thank you very much.

His mind kept going back to Sam kissing that guy. Writhing against him is more like it. I mean, it's not like Dean hadn't ever made out with guys, but…what was his excuse for being mad? It's not because the guy was a stranger. Hell, Dean had planned on bending that little waitress over the sink before he left for the night. So why was he mad?

Dean pulled up in front of the motel and pulled the keys from the ignition. "Make sure you throw that bowl in the trashcan outside would ya?" He slammed the car door and went into the hotel room, leaving Sam outside. He sat down on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. He **really** needed to get a handle on things before Sam came inside, because he didn't like where this was heading.

And that was putting it mildly.

Dean stood as Sam came into the room, heavy footed, nearly tripping over the duffle next to the door.

"Are you mad at me dude, 'cause I can't figure out why. I saw you with that waitress. You were gonna fuck her weren't you? So, 'm not gettin' your attitude." He leaned against the closed motel door, looking up through his long bangs, demanding an answer from Dean.

"Sam, when I said I wanted you to get laid, I wasn't talking about some guy you picked up in a bar."

Sam began ripping the tee-shirt over his head. "You tell me to take a night off, get me high, drunk, and dress me up so, what did you say, I'd '_look good enough to fuck_'. Then you send me on my way. I think you made it pretty clear what you wanted me to do." He threw the shirt at Dean, who caught it and dropped it to the floor.

Sam leaned against the wall shirtless, his jeans slung obscenely low on his hips. Dean felt is dick getting hard again, thinking of how the mystery man in the bar had dipped his hands just under Sam's belt and sucked on his lips.

"Look Sam..." Dean walked forward and cupped the side of Sam's face with his palm. "I'm sorry, I was a dick. I just…when he was touching you..."

"What?" Sam whispered and searched Dean's face for just what he was going to say.

Dean didn't have words for what he was trying to convey, he never was a talker. He knew what he was feeling was unnatural; probably a mixture of territorial jealousy and drugs. He stepped in between Sam's spread legs and pressed against him. Dean wasn't sure what to expect. He just needed to show Sam he wasn't angry because he was making out with a guy, he was angry because the guy wasn't him.

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One more chapter folks...and the next one is NC-17...so if that squirks you or something. Stop NOW!

Feedback is love. TBC...

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	3. Chapter 3

You can visit my LJ for more stories. Username: secretwendigo

Special thanks to The Huntress for being the beta for this story (((((HUGS))))).

_Secret Wendigo_

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**_If boys making out furiously and other...stuff freaks you out...by all means...STOP READING NOW._**

_ You've been warned. _

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Dean breathed heavy in Sam's ear. "Did you even know his name?" He began to suckle at his brother's neck, inhaling the scent of his shampoo mixed with smoke and beer, holding tightly onto his hips, just above the low slung jeans.

Sam's head fell back against the wall.

Not getting an answer, Dean let his hand trail down to squeeze Sam's hard cock through his jeans. "I asked you if you knew his name."

"No. Did you know **her **name?" The question rolled off his tongue like acid.

Sam reached to touch Dean's face, but Dean pulled his head away and grabbed his wrists and pressed them against the wall at his brother's side. "Don't touch me. I just want you to stand there."

Sam complied silently, looking into his eyes as Dean unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them roughly down to his ankles. Dean could see lust in his brother's eyes; a look he recognized in women he'd been with in the past. It's the look that told Dean he could do whatever he wanted and Sam would beg for more.

Dean ran his lips across his jaw and down his chin, rough stubble pulling at his skin. Sam moved forward to kiss him, but he quickly pulled away.

"Were you going to let him do this?" Dean dipped his hand into Sam's blue boxers and began to stroke slowly. He nipped at Sam's neck, slowly kissing lower to his bare chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly under his lips.

"Was he going to get on his knees for you? Where were you going to do it?" Sam reached to touch him again. "Play by the rules Sammy, no touching."

He let out a frustrated moan at the rejection. "I wanna touch you too."

Dean lowered himself to his knees between his brother's legs, running his hands up and down Sam's thighs, spreading them and looking up into his eyes. "Do you like it when men suck you off in a bar bathroom?" He cupped Sam's balls through his boxers, kneading them gently with his fingers.

Dean meant his questions to be rhetorical. He didn't want answers to any of them, he just wanted to get his lips around his brother's dick and show him what a real blow job felt like and that drunk – whoever he was – had no chance of pleasing his brother like he knew he could.

Pressing a kiss to Sam's hip, he pulled the boxers down to his ankles and let Sam's cock rub against his cheek.

Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's short hair and angled his head up to look at him. "What are we doing?"

Dean marveled that Sam, even in his high, drunk state, knew this was wrong, but he just couldn't make himself care and he ignored Sam's question.

"I've imagined you lying on the bed in front of me naked with your cock in your hand, begging to be sucked." Dean ran his tongue once over the bottom of his brother's dick, leaving a glistening stripe of spit. "You've always tried to please me Sam, why would this be any different?"

Sam nodded and kicked his boots off and stepped out of the clothes bunched at his ankles.

"Lay on the bed for me and I'll make sure you enjoy that high."

Sam moved towards his bed. Dean watched as Sam moved slowly, feeling his way as he went. He lowered himself onto his back, spreading his legs, one arm propped behind his head.

Dean hastily removed his clothes, and stood naked at the base of the bed. "What do you want?" Dean asked massaging his erect cock.

"What do **you** want?" Sam reached up and began stroking himself in response.

"What were you going to ask that guy to do to you?" Dean crawled up the bed and took Sam's hand off his cock.

"He told me he'd suck my dick if I sucked him off after."

Dean lowered his head and began kissing Sam's hip, then turned his head and blew hot breath on Sam's hard cock. "Close your eyes."

Sam obeyed and was rewarded with long, wet licks down his length. Dean took the swollen head into his mouth and twirled his tongue around the tip. He flicked his tongue, teasing.

Sam's mouth fell open and he spread his legs further, grabbing Dean's short hair, forcing his mouth further down the shaft. Dean didn't resist when Sam began thrusting up into his mouth.

Moans filled the motel room and Dean ground his cock into the bed, rough cloth grinding into him. He felt his brother at the back of his throat and relaxed, letting him take charge.

"Gonna come Dean…"

Dean steadied Sam's hips and took control as Sam came hard into his mouth. He swallowed with difficulty around Sam's thick cock, which was slowly softening. He sat up and wiped his chin.

Sam lay with his head back and eyes closed. Dean's dick was painfully throbbing for release and he climbed further up to straddle Sam's shoulders.

"You're gonna suck me off now, just like you were gonna do for your boyfriend at the bar."

Dean grabbed the base of his cock and angled it into Sam's mouth.

Sam reached behind him, grabbing his ass, and guided him in slowly, showing Dean how far he could go. He began to rhythmically setting a pace for Dean to fuck his face.

"You're a fuckin' slut you know that? I can't believe you were going to let some guy you just met do this to you. Little innocent Sammy's not so innocent is he?"

In response, Sam gripped his ass tighter, deep throating his dick. Dean held tightly to the headboard and let Sam take control. "I think you've done this before. You are far too good of a cocksucker for this to be your first time. It's not, is it?"

Sam moaned around his dick, and slid his fingers to massage Dean's tight hole.

"Oh fuck, Sammy. I'm gonna come." Dean pulled out of Sam's mouth and began to jerk his cock in front of his face. Two quick strokes and come was spilling onto his brother's lips.

"You're gonna be **my** slut now."

"I've always wanted to be yours Dean. It's you I was imagining when that guy was kissing me."

Dean moved down and lay next to him. He used his fingers to rub his come onto Sam's lips like some kind of obscene gloss. He leaned in sucked on Sam's lips, his tongue gently probing his hot mouth. They wrapped their arms around each other, embracing intimately for the first time.

They broke and Dean pulled a corner of the sheet over to wipe Sam's face clean, and then his.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"'Cause you're my brother, Dean. What was I s'pose to say?"

Dean cradled Sam's face and smiled. "Thank you for taking a night off with me."

"Can we do it again?"

Dean wasn't sure if Sam was talking about taking a night off together or something more.

"Absolutely."

_ The End._

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_ Feedback is love... Tell me you love me, tell me you hate me, just tell me somthing!_


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